


To Feel Your Warmth

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Nicknames, Season/Series 07, Teasing, mild references to ptsd (Shiro)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Shiro's always cold, but Keith keeps him warm.





	To Feel Your Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Welcome contest on the Across the Universe Sheith server. I really wanted to focus on Shiro in this and what loving Keith means to him and how it makes him feel.
> 
>  **Theme** : Show your love of Sheith!
> 
> All the love to restless-red-lion for the beta. <3

Shiro rolls over, emitting a soft groan of disappointment when instead of his boyfriend’s warm body, he’s met with the decidedly cold—and _empty_ —other half of the bed. Keith’s half of the bed. Not that Keith ever sticks to only half. Most night’s he’s sprawled all over the bed taking up more space than Shiro which is as ridiculous as it is impressive given his substantially smaller stature.

Sometimes Shiro thinks Keith must secretly be part octopus the way he manages to always have an arm or leg flung over Shiro no matter what position he’s sleeping in. Not that Shiro minds. The opposite really. It’s comforting— _grounding_ —to be constantly touched by Keith, even in sleep. A solid reminder that he is alive and _safe_. That they both are.

It’s been nearly year since his consciousness was returned from the Astral plane and he still occasionally finds his mind drifting into the darkness he tries so hard to keep at bay. Sometimes though, the only thing that mitigates the fear that he might one day float away into the abyss again is Keith’s solid presence—a hand at his lower back, a warm smile directed his way across the briefing room or a solid body atop his in the dead of night.

Shiro isn’t used to being selfish, but being with Keith makes him want to be, because for the first time in his life he wants something that is entirely for him. It makes Shiro want more days off to spend with Keith, makes him want to delegate his paperwork to someone else so he doesn’t miss dinner with Keith because he's working late, and it makes him want to hog all of Keith’s company for himself. Sometimes it even makes Shiro want to tell the entire Garrison—hell, the entire Galaxy—to screw themselves if they think they deserve Keith. Strong, proud, amazing Keith.

Shiro pushes down the initial panic at waking up alone, eyes fluttering open to glance around the bedroom. Their bedroom. Well, not technically theirs. Technically, Keith still has his own room on the other side of the Garrison in the same hall as the other Paladins. Keith likes to tease Shiro that he comes to Shiro’s room every night because as Commander, Shiro has a much bigger bedroom with an actual living room and kitchen and access to the good coffee. But they both know Keith comes for a lot more than a bigger bed and a cup of dark roast coffee.

Shiro squints at the blinking red lights on the clock on the bedside table—7:53 am—and wrinkles his nose in distaste. Six days a week both he and Keith are up before the sun. It’s a routine that Shiro not only welcomes but enjoys. He likes piloting the Atlas, likes knowing he’s needed and is helping not only keep Earth safe but assisting the Paladins in the only way he can now that he can no longer fly the Black Lion. So while Shiro has never exactly been a morning person it’s something he’d long ago gotten used to.

Except on Sundays. Sundays are for sleeping in. For lazy mornings spent in bed cuddling and kissing, and sometimes more. Sundays are for them. Them. They’ve only been a _them_ for a few months—a shift which had happened so organically Shiro hadn’t even realized they were dating until they’d done a lot more than just hold hands—but Shiro still isn’t over it, doesn’t think he’ll ever be over it.

Which makes the fact that Keith is not only not in bed but clearly not in their bedroom at all even more disappointing.

Shiro sighs, reaching for Keith’s pillow and hugging it to his chest. He closes his eyes and inhales and exhales twice. Keith is fine, probably just couldn’t sleep or someone had an urgent question that couldn’t wait until a decent time. He’s not sure how everyone in the Garrison seems to know Keith is always at his place but it’s something he stopped questioning two weeks after they got together and he started getting knocks on his door for Keith near daily.

Logically Shiro knows there is no reason to panic about Keith not being in bed, but Shiro isn’t sure the disorientation he still feels when waking up alone—the sense of not being tethered to the Earth, to his body—will ever go away. It makes it damn near impossible for Shiro to be logical.

Less than a minute later the tightness in his chest and the buzzing in his ears is too much to ignore and he shoves the pillow to the floor, climbing out of bed with a bone-deep sigh. It’s freezing even for November and the wood floor feels like ice on his bare feet. Sleeping in nothing but a pair of boxers is always more than adequate when Keith is in bed since Keith’s body runs hot and sleeping with him is like sleeping with a human furnace. Getting out of bed, however, is another story because his sleeping attire is no longer adequate and the morning chill has goosebumps springing up across his arm and thighs. Not wanting to take the time to rummage through his drawers for warmer clothing, he tugs the blanket off the bed roughly, sending the remaining pillows flying to the floor and untucking the sheet in the process. Shiro shrugs, shaking out the blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders as he shoves his feet into his slippers and makes his way to the door.

As soon as the bedroom door opens Shiro is assaulted by the smell of coffee and bacon, the sounds of someone—of _Keith_ —cooking filling his chest with a tightness of an entirely different variety as he shuffles down the small hallway and out into the main living area.

Shiro rounds the corner, pausing in the middle of the living room and staring at the sight before him.

Keith is standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxers and Shiro’s jacket which is so long the hem falls to mid-thigh on Keith. His hair, which has gotten longer in recent months, is pulled back into a low, messy ponytail with stray wisps falling down around his ears and curling at the base of his neck. There is no other word for it—Keith looks beautiful.

Shiro thinks back to every single thing he’d ever wanted in his life and knows with complete surety that none of them can compare to the way he wants Keith.

Keith doesn’t seem to notice his presence and instead continues to chew on his bottom lip as he pours coffee into the two biggest mugs Shiro owns, adding an obscene amount of creamer to his own and a hefty spoonful of sugar to both. The pan on the stove sizzles loudly as Keith prods at bacon moments before the toaster pops up two thick slices of bread which Keith grabs and drops onto a plate, slathering them with a generous amount of butter and grape jelly, exactly like Shiro likes. Somehow seeing Keith make Shiro’s coffee and toast exactly the way he likes it fills Shiro with a kind of warmth not even the frigid morning air can leech from him.

“What are you doing?” Shiro finally asks, unable to simply watch any longer, crossing the room to press his cold nose into the back of Keith’s neck, the soft hairs there tickling his face. Shiro closes his eyes and inhales slowly, his senses overwhelmed by the feeling of Keith’s solid body, the scent of his shampoo and something else musky and clean that’s just inherently Keith.

Keith’s hearty laughter reverberates against Shiro’s chest as Keith turns his head to press a kiss to the top of Shiro’s head. “I realize you’re not entirely familiar with the kitchen, Captain, but this is called cooking. I could teach you sometime if you’re up to the challenge.”

Shiro huffs out his own laugh, nuzzling his face into the warm skin of Keith’s shoulder where the jacket has slipped down exposing an expanse of pale skin. Shiro peppers it with soft kisses before opening his blanket cocoon and wrapping his arms—and the blanket—around them both as he rests his chin atop Keith’s shoulder. “I know what cooking is, you smart ass.”

“Do you now? Could have surprised me. Last month you burnt the coffee and the eggs. I didn’t even know it was possible to burn coffee.”

Shiro snorts, face heating with the memory. It wasn’t his fault Keith had walked into the kitchen right before breakfast was almost done wearing Shiro’s favorite shirt with the words “I went to space and all I got was this t-shirt” and a pair of Shiro’s old sweatpants, which were were cinched tightly at the waist and were so long that they hung over his bare feet as Keith had padded into the kitchen bleary-eyed and yawning, with a mess of bedhead so endearing Shiro had staggered under the wave of affection that had hit him. How the hell was he supposed to have focused on cooking when Keith had looked so warm and soft? The sight of Keith in his clothing that morning, casual as could be, had simply been too much for his heart to bear.

“That wasn’t my fault. You came into the kitchen wearing my clothes. I was distracted.”

Keith shakes his head tutting softly. “Takashi Shirogane, respected Captain and brave space explorer, completely undone by a man in oversized loungewear. Who would’ve thought?” Shiro can hear the amusement in his voice as Keith slips his hand out from behind the blanket to flip the burner off so the bacon doesn't burn. “You ruined my surprise you know.”

Shiro tilts his head, turning it to the side and resting his cheek against Keith’s shoulder, his lips ghosting across the side of Keith’s neck. “Mmm, how did I do that?”

“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed. You know... _because_.”

Shiro smiles against Keith’s neck. “Because why?” he asks.

Keith shivers when Shiro’s still cold fingers find their way to rest on Keith’s stomach, holding him in a soft embrace. “It’s um—that is to say, well—s’been six months,” Keith mumbles, uncharacteristically shy.

“Six months since what?” Shiro asks in mock innocence, knowing full well what the significance of today is.

Keith groans, turning around in Shiro’s embrace until his arms are wrapped around Shiro’s waist, their foreheads pressed together. “Don’t make me be sappy.”

Shiro’s face breaks out in a smile as he pulls the blanket tighter around them. Keith is impossibly warm, as always, and being swathed in his embrace and the blanket has the last lingering chill finally seeping from Shiro’s body. “You’re making me anniversary breakfast. I’m pretty sure you’re already being sappy, baby.”

Keith exhales a heavy breath, eyes bright as he steals a chaste kiss. “You knew and you still made me say it?”

Shiro presses his nose into Keith’s cheek, nuzzling his face as he lets his left hand rub up and down Keith’s back underneath the jacket, his prosthetic holding the blanket tightly so it doesn't fall. “What can I say, old loungewear and sappiness turns me on.”

Keith pulls back slightly, his fingers coming up to brush the floof off Shiro’s forehead as he stands on his tiptoes to press a kiss there. Keith’s lips are warm and gentle and Shiro’s eyelids flutter closed, overwhelmed by the tenderness with which Keith touches him. “Happy Anniversary, Takashi.”

“Happy Anniversary, Keith,” Shiro whispers back, feeling warmer than he has in months.

He knows now the cold may never fully leave him, but at least with Keith he will always have someone to keep it at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://teamtakashi.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813).


End file.
